


waiting for the chance || yuri plisetsky x reader

by rustedmetalheart (moltenvintagelacedress)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Reader-Insert, Romance, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-10-27 05:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10802418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moltenvintagelacedress/pseuds/rustedmetalheart
Summary: It all started at six years old.You were ice skating; your parents and you were on a family vacation to Russia and you begged to be allowed to 'walk on water' like you once saw the pretty girl on TV do. Little did you know that a future star of Russian ice skating was also at that rink, and little did you know that from that day forward your entire future changed its course; and all because you were too goddamn stubborn to move a little bit to the left.





	1. Chapter 1

Ice skating was never something your parents expected you to want a career in. You excelled in academics from a young age, everyone always expected you to go to an Ivy League college and become a doctor or lawyer; somebody civilized, intelligent, sophisticated. To be quite honest, your parents never intended for you to go ice skating that one trip to Russia a mere ten years ago. It was only after your incessant begging that they crumbled and cancelled their spa trip to visit the rink.

Also attending that small skating rink was none other than Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian Fairy, the future of Russia's ice skating team. At the time, he skated more for the pleasure of it. Of course, he'd always had the drive to excel but as he grew older, that started to motivate him more than simply skating on the ice did.

You were holding onto your mom's hand, your awkward steps on the ice making her giggle. She explained to you that you had to glide, not step like you did on dry ground. You did as instructed and started laughing wildly, your voice bouncing off the walls. The rink was empty, besides a teenage couple and a young boy around your age.

You didn't see him at first, until your mom let go of your hand to let you practice skating alone. As you slowly moved your feet along the ice, you looked up from your feet to see him. Icy, icy blue eyes and blonde hair as long as yours. Before you could say anything, he looked over to you, glanced up and down your body, from your unevenly placed feet to your arms spread wide around you, almost as if you were trying to fly and sped away. Confused, you looked back down and continued on your way.

Yuri had thought about what his parents had told him about ice skating. That he shouldn't get involved with the recreational skaters, the ones that weren't invested into it. They said they'd slow him down by making him teach them everything they needed to know, before sooner or later, it would be too late for him to move on. That philosophy followed him into his teenage years, and he tacked on not only recreational skaters, but competitive skaters. His reasoning was that he couldn't trust them and that he didn't want to be sabotaged.

Your six-year old self hadn't thought anything of the boy until ten minutes later, after you were used to the slippery feeling of the ice, and you were slowly skating faster and faster. Your mom was watching you from the entrance, excited to see you so happy but shouting at you to slow down. You did as much, until the boy from earlier scoffed from behind you.

"Перемещение, девушка*," He hissed.

You turned around, confused at what he had said. Your confused eyes moved to your mom, but before you could call for her the boy slid by.

While you were leaving later that day, that same rude boy came up to you as your parents left you sitting to find directions to the park.

"Do you speak English?" He asked you, the words choppy and hesitant. You nodded.  
He smirked at you before he continued.

"Don't come back to Russia. You're a mistake to ice skating." With that, he left, his long hair trailing behind him. At the time, you didn't understand what he'd said, until you asked your mom that night and she's explained to you that the little boy was just picking on you.

She said that because you weren't good at skating, he thought you shouldn't be allowed at the rink. Your mind, however young, decided that from that day forward, you would prove him wrong.

For a while, your parents thought it was a cute phase. Back in America, they bought you ice skates and allowed you to get lessons. Your dad said it was different from the other girls in your class that played softball or soccer, and he didn't mind it. He said it was another form of dancing and thought you were wonderful.

As the months went by though, your parents realized your strange determination to be your best at the sport. After a year, you begged and begged for a professional coached. They obliged, but were concerned as to how intense your motivation to prove the boy wrong was. What they didn't know, though, was that that was only half the game. You had gained an insatiable desire to ice dance, to successfully land your first toe loop and later on your axel and even the Salchow.

The coach your parents had hired told your parents that you showed prime traits to compete in the Junior Grand Prix. She said that it would be a to not allow you to compete. After much persuasion, your parents hesitantly allowed you to enter.

At thirteen years old, you placed first for women's singles at the Junior Grand Prix. You scored a 237.6. Yuri Plisetsky beat you in the men's singles by five points.

The day you won that competition was the day your parents truly saw how much figure skating meant to you. They listened to your goals and asked you what they could do to help you succeed. You replied, bluntly,

"Move me to Russia."

And it was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'move, girl,'*
> 
> hello! thank you so much for reading, it means a whole awful lot! I was inspired to write this after discovering there was a lack of frequently updated fics at the moment, and thought why not !


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rushed, hectic month after your request to your mother and you were now flying from America all the way to Russia.

When you told your coach that you were moving to Russia and therefore letting her go as your coach, she started beaming with pride.

"I knew this day was going to come, Honey," She sighed, taking your hands into her own.

"I'm so proud to have seen you grow into your God-given ability. I have some old friends that coach in Russia, I'll get you the best I can find. I hope to one day see you win the Olympics, darling," She kissed your cheek. "But most of all, I never want you to lose your fire."

Veronica, your best friend, was sad to see you go. You two had met at ballet class; she'd been in this class since she could walk and dreamed to become a ballerina. She was the one who instigated your first conversation, plopping down next to you while you stretched.

"How are you so flexible?" She awed as you pointed your foot up into the air, breathing deeply to keep your balance.

"Ice skating," You'd breathed. Your coach was asanine about you doing stretches every practice and every single night. Over the years you'd gotten incredibly stretchy, but you had never taken up the activity of ballet because of how busy you were. Skating practices were every day, minus Sundays from eight to three Monday, Wednesday and Friday and nine to two every other day. You were home schooled between that time, but it wasn't ever your main priority.

Veronica started grinning after your reply, and during that days lessons she gave you pointers and extra stretches to do in the morning, along with your first and basically only friendship. 

The night before you left, she spent the night with you one last time. Due to the fact skating season was finished, as soon as you arrived at Russia you would have to start planning your next programs which wouldn't really allow for much time to visit.

"Honey," She started, looking up from the photo album she was sitting through. 

"Yes?" 

"I want to see you beat Yuri Plisetsky. I want to see you beat him by a landslide, break his personal highest score. I don't want to see you back here until you prove that little termite that you are the greatest. You have always been, but it just wasn't discovered as earlier as his ability was."

Grinning, you threw the t-shirt you were folding into your suitcase and tackled Veronica, laughing and overjoyed.

"I promise you. I will beat the Russian Fairy!"

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

The next morning at the airport, you could feel the tears already dropping from your eyes. You were boarding in less than ten minutes. Turning back to look at your parents, your coach and Veronica, you gave them a watery smile.

"I'll make you all proud. Russia is one of the best countries in the world for ice skating," You looked at your coach. "I'm working with one of the best coaches there. Thank you." Wiping your eyes, you grabbed onto your suitcases and purse and nodded at each of them in turn.

"Next time you see me, I will be better than any of the skaters there. I will beat Yuri Plisetsky."

They waved as you walked to the terminal, the intercom announcing your flight would be boarding in five minutes. It was the next phase of your skating career, and you hoped it would be the start of your goal of beating your rival.

The flight itself was entirely too long, but you scrolled through Instagram for a while, looking at one account in particular: Yuri's. You had to admit, his skills were undoubtedly impressive. He had a talent for the sport, but so did you. You also cared to notice that he also had an eye for photography; pictures of the Russian winter from a few months ago surprised you, as they were breathtaking. His own selfies seemed to have a bit of professionalism put into them as well. You wondered vaguely if he had taken any courses for photography.

But, you could also see his program for this next season was already looking phenomenal. Everyone knew Yuri wanted to be the best at everything, most importantly skating. He'd attempted quads this past season, landing them, and had heard that his coach was not happy with him. To you, it was weird; yes, he could've injured himself, but if he landed them that well you couldn't help but be envious and mentally wonder why his coach was so against it.

Remembering suddenly that you had a new coach, you locked your phone and opened your purse to find the folder your old coach had given you about her friend, your current coach. She had been your only one in America, and it was hard to imagine having anyone else, especially a guy. You'd always felt comfortable around her and didn't know what it would like with an even stricter coach. You sighed while reading through the few articles about him you'd printed out. His name was Yakov Feltsman, and you gasped when you remembered that he coached the infamous Viktor Nikiforov. It slipped your mind the other Russian prodigy he coached until you read it on the article. 

You were going to be trained with Yuri himself.

Internally hitting yourself over and over again, wondering how in the world it could've slipped from your mind when you shook your head, put the papers away and took out your Russian workbook. Since you and your parents took at least one vacation a year, you had started learning a few phrases from several, several languages. Russian, however, was one that you'd decided at the age of ten would be the most useful. You knew back then that you would be moving here someday, whether it would be in three years or ten, you wanted to be prepared. Since then, you've become almost fluent in the language. Of course, due to it being a second language, actually speaking it on a day-to-day basis would feel off, but it was a new experience and an important one at that.

Hour after hour ticked by, and you gradually got more bored until you passed out at the fourth hour. You woke up to the intercom announcing you'd be arriving at Sheremetyvo International Airport shortly, and you yawned before putting your table up and clicking your phone hour. The eleven-hour flight had totally drained you, just like it did while traveling, but this time it felt different. Final, like there wasn't any going back.

When you arrived at your terminal, you managed your way through the throngs of people throughtout the airport, making it out into the bitter cold to find your taxi driver standing with a sign with your name on it. Grinning, you waved over at him and ran, thanking him briskly before getting into the warm car.

When he started driving, you opened your phone to find your contact for Yakov to notify him of your arrival. As the phone was ringing, you silently prayed your Russian wasn't as horrendous as you'd think it would be.

"Zdravstvujtye," Yakovs gruff voice answered on the other line. You sighed, hurrying to pronounce out the foreign phrases.

"Hello, it is Honey, your new student. I called to inform you that I have arrived in Moscow and will be in class Monday morning."

You and Yakov exchanged a few more words before hanging up. It was Saturday night in Russia, meaning you had the rest of tonight and tomorrow to catch up on sleep and unpack what you have before classes all week. The apartment you were living in was with an old family friend that your parents had made on one of your countless vacations. Her name was Anichka, and she was an older woman, recently divorced and without any children. She had loved you since you were a child and was the first person to see your first ever program. It felt nice to be returning to see her after so many years.

You were dropped off at the complex, and she was outside, glowing with happy energy.

"Honey!" She cheered, her familiar accent causing you to smile as well. You both went to the trunk to grab your bags, waving off the driver's help. After Anichka paid, you went up to her apartment.

It was a modest living space; small den area, a kitchen a bit bigger than the adjoined living area, two bedrooms and a bathroom. Quaint, sensible and warm. As she brought you to your room, you realised she had decorated it almost perfectly. It wasn't too overdone; a simple loft bed, desk, dresser and a table. The room was the smallest in the house, which you enjoyed. It wasn't as if you were going to be spending too much time in here as it was.

"Bolsho spasibo," You beamed at the woman, hugging her tight. "This means so, so much to me. Thank you."

She allowed you to start unpacking, and later that night you had a nice dinner with her. The new season was starting off greatly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM TRYING TO ADD AS MUCH RUSSIAN AS I POSSIBLY CAN BUT I CANT FIND PHONETIC TRANSLATIONS OF EVERYTHING, PLUS I GUESS ITS BEST IF I SIMPLY JUST USE THE SIMPLER RUSSIAN WORDS.
> 
> Zdravstvujtye = a formal hello in phonetic Russian
> 
> Bolsho spasibo= a big thank you in phonetic Russian


	3. Chapter 3

That Monday Anichka dropped you off at the rink a half hour early, hugging you goodbye and wishing you luck. She knew just how intense Yakov could get, and it was probably the best for you to get as much luck as you could. After all, you were seeing your rival- being coached by his coach none-the-less.

Heading into the building, you followed the signs to the locker room and changed into your skates, throwing your bag of street clothes into the locker you had been assigned and made your way to the rink. It looked as if Yakov's other students weren't here this early, and you were glad for the quiet. It left you time to just turn on music and skate without having people expect anything from you, without having to impress anyone with your turns or jumps.

You pressed shuffle on your playlist, set your phone down and went to the center of the rink, letting the music float over you. Improv wasn't very common during off-season as a warm-up, considering that it wasted time and also was very difficult to think of moves to do on the fly. For you, however, you listened to each of your songs on your playlist intently whenever they came on, thinking of different moves you could do during them. It was both a stress reliever and time. passer.

As the song got more and more intense you could feel the sweat starting to come but the chill of the ice made it difficult to pay attention to it. The choreography was pouring out from you, and although it wasn't a an actual program you put as much effort into it as you would your free skate.

Your train of inspiration, however, was thrown off its track when a certain blonde Russian suddenly stopped your music.

"Who," The boy yelled, making you jump and fall onto the ice. "the fuck do you think you are?"

You looked up, wiping sweat from your face, and scrambled to your feet, willing yourself to skate faster.

"Your new rinkmate, asshat," Making a swipe for your phone, Yuri grabbed it and hid it behind his back.

"Excuse me?" His voice was angry, confused. He obviously hadn't hit puberty yet and you laughed at his boyish voice.

"I said, Yuri, that I am now going to be coached by Yakov. The same as you."

To say the least, Yuri was pissed the fuck off. Yakov hadn't told any of his students as of yet, and he came to the rink expecting downtime before practice but was greeted with the infuriating news that his sworn enemy lived in the same city as him.

"Give me my phone." He dropped it into your open palm and you made your way to the break room to grab a bottle of water, leaving the dumbfounded boy to fume alone.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Your introductions to Yakov's other students went a lot more smoothly. Georgi was the one that was the unhappiest with your arrival, second only to Yuri, but Viktor and Mila were ecstatic at having another adolescent child as hostile as Yuri was to mess around with.

As expected, training was brutal. He was a lot more cutthroat about flexibility than your old coach, along with being very, very critical. Yakov didn't hold back, he was blunt, but that might be why his routines were clean of mistakes. Minus the Yuri part, being coached by him wasn't horrible, he was, afterall, one of the greatest in Russia.

During your break, Mila and Viktor were the only ones who started questioning you about your sudden move. They had heard of your win this past season and were very impressed, but never expected that you'd be leaving America so soon.

"It was mainly an issue with my training," You explained briefly, biting into an apple. "It wasn't enough. I practiced day in and day out, but I was never satisfied with what I did. Don't get me wrong, my coach was phenomenal, but I needed more."

Without warning, Yuri sauntered up to your table and interrupted, causing Mila and Viktor to look between the two of you.

"Or you came to spy on my programs and to find out all of my secrets." Brows raised, you turned to the short blonde.

"Yuri, as much as I'd love to inflate your ego, if that's even possible, the truth is that no, that's not it." You rolled your eyes, and Yuri crossed his arms.

"Oh really?"

"Really."

Mila and Viktor exchanged a look as you and Yuri argued before Viktor interrupted, a smile forming on his lips.

"Yuri," His voice was teasing, and you looked to see a mischievous look in his eyes. "You never told me she was this cute!"

A blush whispered across your cheeks and you started to pack up your food, ready to leave the situation. As amazing as Viktor Nikiforov was on the ice, he would prove to be a pain in the ass during practice.

"Wait!" The red headed female followed you as you elbowed Yuri before stalking to put your stuff away in the locker room.

"Honey, I was curious to see if you're busy Wednesday night. The rest of us usually go out to eat once a week, and we need to get to know you better."

You paused for a moment. On the one hand, Mila Babicheva, one of the greatest in women's singles, was inviting you to dinner, but it was also with someone you couldn't stand.

"I'll let you know tomorrow," You decided, smiling at the older girl. "Thank you for inviting me though."

She nodded before walking back to the break room. With a sigh, you finished the walk to the locker room and checked your phone. You had about ten minutes left before you had to get back on the ice, so you decided to call Veronica, hoping it wasn't too late in America.

"Hello?"

"Yo, Veronica!" Even thought she couldn't see you, you started to smile.

An audible gasp was heard from Veronica's end.

"Hey Honey! How's practice, wait, how's El Douche?" 

A laugh escaped your lips.

"He isn't too thrilled to see me here, as expected. But I'm here for one reason: to get trained by the best, to become the best."

"That's the spirit! Good luck Honey, I have to go get dinner ready, but make sure to call me when you have some down time."

You exchanged goodbyes before ending the call. In brighter spirits than before, you stuffed your phone into your bag before grabbing your skates and running out to the rink.

~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~~

At the end of practice you waited outside for Anichka to come get you. Honestly, you didn't live far away from the rink, but you hated cardio and it was blistering cold in Russia still. You were typing a caption to a picture you were about to post on Instagram when you heard a cough from behind you.

"Honey," It wasn't Yuri's voice as you expected, but Viktor's voice.

You turned, smiling at him before shutting your phone off. "Hey Viktor."

The older boy approached you, looking you up and down. He wasn't checking you out, as that would be very awkward, but rather taking a simple observatory stare.

"You're a very good skater." He stated this plainly, as if he was giving you an evaluation. "A lot of muscle, more than most girls your age. You are short though."

It was true; only resting at about five feet and three inches, you were one of the shortest in your division. Most people had expected you'd drop out because of your height, as figure skaters and dancers were supposed to be tall and have long legs.

"I've noticed you have to work a lot harder than everyone else. You're not like Yuri in that you have a natural ability. It seems like all of your ability has been engrained into you. It's refreshing."

Having Viktor Nikiforov giving you compliments out of nowhere was very nice, but you couldn't help but think there was a catch.

"What do you want?" Turning and resting against the wall of the rink, wishing desperately that Anichka would hurry the fuck up already.

"You and Yuri should do a pair skate."

"The fuck I should!" You seethed at him, shaking your head. "I'm pretty sure Yuri already informed you on our past or whatever the fuck, that's not happening."

"Actually," Viktor smiles slightly, his plan falling into place. "He never really has. Can you explain?"

Sighing, you pushed back your hair and walked towards where he was on the bench.

"When I was really young, my parents took me on a trip to Russia. I had been watching movies about figure skating and ice dancing at the hotel and begged to go ice skating. They finally took me after a day or two, but when I stepped on the ice." Your phone buzzed with the arrival of a text from Anichka.

'Hey. Sorry Honey, I can't make it, I'll explain when I get home. Sorry.'

With a sigh, you looked up at Viktor, who was sneakily reading your text.

"Need a ride?" He asked you with a smirk. "I'm just waiting for Yuri, if you needed a ride."

You scoffed, shaking your head.

"No, I'm good. I'll just call a taxi or something."

Continuing your story quickly, you explained how when you first got into competition, Yuri didn't have a clue as to who you were. After you competed against him a few times, he finally remembered, and ever since it's been a deadly rivalry between the two of you.

"Okay, but," Viktor started after you'd finished. "that doesn't really explain why it's so intense. You are in different brackets, why does it even matter?"

"I'm stubborn. Nobody insults me without me trying to prove them wrong."

Before either if you could say more, a certain petite blond came out.

"Come on. You wanted to take me home, so let's go." He didn't notice you sitting next to him until you got up, grabbing your bag and unlocking your phone.

Handing it to Viktor, you ignored Yuri, and told him to add his contact.

"See you tomorrow." You told him as he gave you your phone back.

Winking, he stood, walking with a confused Yuri to his car.

"Think about what I said, Honey," Viktor called before he turned around, wondering what crazy ideas were floating around his head.


	4. Chapter 4

When you got home, Anichka was nowhere to be found. You texted her before heading to your room, taking your shoes off and tossing your bag on your table. Your feet were always blistered and covered in calluses and it seemed as if you'd gotten even more than usual. With a sigh, you started doing your stretches, if only to pass the time till Anichka got home.

After about ten minutes, your phone buzzed. Getting up, grateful for the distraction, you read the text from Anichka.

'Sorry I wont be home till late. office jobs suck. help yourself to whatever in the fridge, see if you can get a ride to the rink tomorrow. again, so sorry.'

Shaking your head, you typed out a reply before opening Viktor's contact and walking to the kitchen.

You had forgotten that she hadn't really found a passion for anything- at least, anything she felt she was good at. She loved art and animation but she couldn't afford college, even though she did get accepted to one. Instead, she went and got some degree and ended up working as a secretary for a law firm. Anichka often ended up working late because she really didn't have much reason to come home, until recently. You supposed she couldn't change her schedule that much though.

Looking around in the fridge, you saw she had a lot of vegetables and fruits. Since you hadn't ever really tried to cook, you decided to make a fruit salad and call it a night.

While you prepared your food, you scrolled through Instagram and saw you had a new DM.

It was from none other than El Douche himself, surprisingly.

'what the hell was viktor talking to you about'

Smirking, you left your phone on the counter for a bit while you cut the fruit. Man, was Veronica going to flip when she found out.  
As you went to sit in the living room, you saw he was typing another text.

'why did you leave me on read'

Rolling your eyes, you opened the keyboard.

'its really none of your business, if he didnt tell you he probably doesnt want you to know.'

You began to talk a bit, surprisingly. It was mainly just questions about each others programs, but it was pleasant nonetheless. Vaguely you wondered if you would ever become friends with him, but chased the thought away.

'whatre the songs you chose ? and whats your theme ?' 

You had decided your theme for this year was 'Adventure.' Especially after your move, your entire life was kind of an adventure, so you thought it had fit. For your short program, you had chosen Glory by Bastille, as it touched something deep within you. There was an underlying romantic meaning to it, therefore making it slightly difficult for you to skate to with passion. Your free program was still undecided. You knew it was going to have to be longer, but you couldn't find a song that fit you. Your coach had said, before you moved, that you should have your song choice chosen in at least in two weeks. Putting your bowl on the coffee table, you wrapped up in a blanket before checking his reply.

'hah, good luck with that. I already have my songs chosen.' He explained how Yakov had chosen one of his songs while he'd chosen the other. His theme was something pretentious like passion or whatever, honestly you didn't really care. Whatever he skated to, he skated beautifully; that's just what a prodigy does.

'why are you texting me, Yuri?' You had started typing even though the screen had the three dots, signaling that Yuri himself was typing.

'scoping out the competition, thats why' Raising your eyebrows, you sent an 'okay' before having your phone buzz with a text from Viktor.

'I'm taking Yuri, but I'm sure he won't mind. I'm calling you.' As soon as you finished reading the message, your screen changed to that of an incoming call.

"What the hell do you want, Viktor?"

You could hear the smile in his voice."Did you know that I was with Yuri?" When you said no, you heard a voice in the background.

'...the fuck Viktor, why are you talking to her?'

"I'm hanging up now,"

"No! Wait!" You heard Viktor scrambling and Yuri's indignant voice. With a sigh, you waited until his voice appeared again.

"It's only six, Honey. Can you come over for a bit? It's boring here and Yuri would rather DM you than talk to me anyway." You sat and thought. On the one hand, you had nothing better to do, and it's not as if you had plans tomorrow that really affected it

"Fine. Why not, come pick me up." Viktor said he'd be there in fifteen and to text him your address. After you sent him the message, you went to put your fork and bowl in the sink before going back to your room to grab your purse and shoes.

~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~

It proved that this decision might've been one of the worst in your lifetime. As soon as you stepped into that car, Yuri was on a rampage.

"Viktor I swear to fucking God I'll never forgive you for this, you know how much I hate her," You turned in your seat (the passenger's seat, mind you) and looked at him and smiled.

"You know, Yuri, I don't understand why you hate me so much. Honestly, my reasoning for not liking you makes sense- yours, well, not so much."

You turned back around, sighing. You had texted Anichka to let her know, just in case she came home early, and Veronica had texted you to ask how your first day of practice was.

"Why are you hanging out with us if you're just going to be in your phone?"

"Viktor told me you'd rather text me than talk to him, that's why."

The man in question was smirking, driving along the road with ease. For someone with as much energy and short of an attention span as him, he was a good driver.

"Plus," Viktor added. "She is new. I want her to feel as comfortable as possible."

Raising your eyebrows at him, you turned back to your phone to finish your text to your friend. Not even thirty seconds afterwards, your phone started ringing.

"What the hell are you doing Honey? There's no fraterenizing with the enemy!"

"Veronica, chill. Yuri is the only enemy, and he isn't even that threatening. Viktor is cool too." You could hear the boy's indignant scoff from the back seat, but you hurried to end the call.

"And, dude, like I said in the text, I'm in the car with them right now. Kinda not a good time. Plus its probably late over there."

Veronica sighed. "Fine, whatever, just let me know what happens."

The call ended and Viktor pulled up to a modest apartment complex.

"Here's my place," He announced, stepping out of the car. After you and Yuri got out, he lead you to a series of stairs, before he landed on the third floor. Room 182. Taking out a set of keys, he opened the door before gesturing for you to enter.

The apartment was as expected- dirty, domestic, but had a contemporary feel to it.

"Nice," You commented before, out of nowhere, a dog jumped on you.

He started liking your face, barking madly. All you could do was laugh and pet the poodle, not realizing how much you missed your dog and cat in America.

Yuri muttered an 'ew' before walking to the couch, taking out his phone and throwing himself across it.

"His name is Makachin," Viktor knelt down, petting the dog on the head before extending a hand towards you. With one last smile to Makkachin, you grabbed it and stood.

"Thanks," You made your way to where Yuri laid with his eyes closed, grabbing his legs and moving them onto the floor. You sit where they used to be, checking your phone to ignore the heated glare being sent your way.

"So, Honey, tell us about your old coach," Viktor started, his voice coming from the kitchen.  
Taking a deep breath, looking as Yuri reluctantly took out his ear buds, you explained your story.

"After the whole thing with Yuri at that rink, we finished our vacation and when we got home, I told my mom I wanted to skate. She laughed," You looked at Viktor. "She never really took me seriously until I started to really excel. My dad was a little more understandable with the whole thing; he was proud his little girl wasn't dancing or playing softball like everyone else.

"I managed to get a decent coach. She isn't world renowned in any sense of the word, but she was good for me. Until I won. I needed more intensity, more challenge. When I told her I was moving, she got in contact with Yakov and managed to convince him to take me on."

Viktor looked at you thoughtfully, finger on his chin.

"How did your parents decide to ever let you go alone though? I'm assuming they're still in America."

Smiling, you nodded.

"They couldn't move. They never could. They have an old family friend here in Russia, her name is Anichka. She's housing me till I'm old enough to get my own apartment."

You opened your phone and went to the camera roll.

"Here's my parents," You turned your phone around to the boys. "And my pets."

"No siblings?" Yuri asked. You shook your head.

"They did think about adopting, but it never went through. Mom couldn't conceive and dad thought they were too old for another child."

It went silent after that. You showed them pictures of your cat and dog, telling them old random stories. For once, Yuri wasn't opening his mouth and being hateful, something on which you commented. 

"Why aren't you insulting me?" He scoffed, putting an earbud back in. 

"I'm just waiting for you to leave." Sighing, you checked your phone. It was only seven but you couldn't help but worry if Anichka was home. You hadn't gotten a text back but hoped she was just busy and hadn't seen it. 

"You can stay for a bit," Viktor soothed, making you look up at him. "You make things more interesting around here." 

Grinning, you put your phone on the table. What you didn't realize is that Yuri had seen you type in your pass code, and next time you got onto Instagram, you were going to be in for a big surprise.


	5. Chapter 5

"Yuri fucking Plisetsky!"

Heads turned as you stormed through the rink on Tuesday, Mila and Viktor sniggering away in a corner of the locker room.

Yuri turned, shirt off and hair in a half pony tail as you walked in.

"How fucking dare you, you asshole!" You shoved your phone under his nose, showing the Instagram post he'd posted on your page.

"What? You didn't want that to get out, did you?" He smirked at you, walking to his locker to get his shirt. "Oops. Sorry."

After you had set your phone down the night before, he grabbed it quickly before saying he had to go to the bathroom. He found a really bad video of you skating to Toxic and put a clip of it on your Instagram.

"How can you sleep at night, you douchebag?"

"Knowing that I'm still going to meet you at the Grand Prix this year."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because I beat you this past year."

Yuri walks past you, and a sudden urge to hit him passes over you before you turn around and grab his shoulder.

"Let. Go. Of. Me." Yuri growls, jerking his shoulder, but not before you grab his arm.

"I propose a contest."

Suddenly, Viktor and Mila come out from the shadows, grins spreading across their faces.

"Not a smart idea," Yuri mutters. "They will get a kick out of this."

You smirk this time, letting go of his arm.

"Since when do you care when it comes to competition?"

Viktor walks up to stand beside you, Mila following.

Yuri raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms. "What do I get if I win?"

You look up at Viktor, an understanding passing between you. Despite the fact you had just met, you had a connection with him. He's like a less annoying older brother.

"Whatever you want. You decide. If I win, though-"

"You have to do a pair skate with her." Viktor finishes, and you high five with him.

Yuri's eyes look from between the both of you, a look of disgust glued on his face.

"Why do you seem so not bothered by this, Honey?" He asks.

"A pair skate between the male and female Junior division gold medalists. I don't know, Yuri, maybe because it's good publicity?" You roll your eyes.

"Fine. If I win," Yuri's eyes glint, a smirk replacing the look of disgust. "You have to change coaches."

Mila and Viktor's face falter.

"Honey..." Mila puts her hand on your shoulder. "I don't know about this anymore."

You shook your head, not moving your eyes from Yuri's.

"It's a deal."

Holding out your hand, you quickly shook in it before leaving to warm up for practice.  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

"Focus, Honey, Focus!"

Yakov's voice rang through the echoey rink as you fell out of your triple Lutz for the fifth time.

"It's not working!" You yelled, laying on the ice. "I need a break."

Yakov groaned, walking away from the barrier and sitting on the bench. Reluctantly, wanting to just lay on the ice for the rest of time, you stood, skating over to grab a drink and your phone.

"I'm practicing something else."

You turned on a song you'd found a few days beforehand, after a day such as this one. It had been four days since you made the deal with Yuri and you didn't think your program was going to cut it; you needed to start choreographing.

It was from some indie band on a Spotify playlist you listened to. You think it was called Spanish Sahara, but you couldn't really remember.  
It started off slow, just a steady beat. You stayed at the center of the ice, moving your arms and spinning slowly. As the vocals started, you closed your eyes and melted into the song.

His voice was raw, raspy, not like most male singers on the radio. From the stands Viktor watched carefully, watching how differently you skated when you weren't necessarily trying.

The beat started getting more intense, louder. Your movements got crisper, more erratic and full of passion. Yuri even started looking, wondering what happened to the girl from three minutes ago who tried all too hard. Right now, you were graceful, effortless.

The song was long, about six and a half minutes, but you didn't lose stamina, even after the two combination spins you did and the triple Lutz, which you finally landed. Your final pose was you looking at nothing, arms outstretched and a look of absolute pain on your face.

Clapping from Mila, who walked in midway through to say goodnight before she saw you skating, and Viktor ensued and you took a dramatic bow, wiping sweat you didn't even realize was there from your forehead and making your way to the gate.

"I landed it," You told Yakov through deep breaths. "Can I go now?"

He nodded, looking resigned, and you went to a bench to pull off your skates. You knew tonight there was going to be far more blisters than there has been this week.

"That was amazing, Honey," Mila gushed, sitting next to you. "I didn't watch your program from last year until last night. You're gorgeous whenever you get into it."

A blush formed on your face. Everyone knew you weren't the greatest at the turns and rotations, but you tried your damndest to be spectacular.

"She was sloppy." A familiar, judge mental voice says from behind you, making you sigh. "You weren't focusing. That first combination you did was half-assed, like you were improv-ing that."

You turned to face him, your left skate in hand. "Yuri, you walked in on me skating the first day I was here," A smirk appeared on your face. "I always improv to warm up, or to warm down. And it seems like I did better than any of your improvisations."

Viktor and Mila let out a chorus of 'ohhh' and left the rink, Viktor saying he'd wait for you outside.

"Why are you still here?" You unlaced your right skate, the foot being even worse than the other. Sighing, you touched the blisters, flinching at the burn.

"Because I have a question." Yuri sat on the bench, as far away from you as possible. "How can you... do that thing you do when you skate?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like..." Yuri rubs his head, trying to figure out the best way to phrase his question. "It looks like you don't even care. As if you're an angel up in heaven or some shit."

You choked at that. "Aw, why thank you Yuri, it's not every day your biggest rival insinuates that you're angelic."

Now it's Yuri's turn to blush. "I never said that. What I meant is that it looks nice. I could never skate like that, I mean, you know what I'm like."

It goes silent after that. You knew that this is the nicest he's ever been to you, and you wanted it to last. Everyone at the rink was older by at least a few years, and Yuri and you had similar personalities. Sometimes when you were home alone you wondered if after the contest, maybe you could be friends.

"You're determined, Yuri," You turned to look at him. In this light, his eyes sparkled. "There's nothing wrong with that. Honestly, I'm jealous of your technique. I have to fight tooth and nail to land a simple double. For you, it's effortless." Suddenly, without even realizing what you were doing, you stood and held your skates in your hand. "I'm going to go change. Are you riding with Viktor?" He nodded, and you smiled weakly before heading towards the locker room.

As you walked to the door, Yuri called something out.

"I'm going to beat your ass!"

Smiling, you shook your head. The contest was in a week, and you were positive that your Spanish Sahara program would beat him by miles.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Every night the next week you practiced alone, telling Anichka you were walking home. Viktor came to watch a couple nights, but otherwise had plans. You had remembered too late about the dinner Mila had asked you to from the week before, but she said she understood. You finished choreographing Spanish Sahara, having Viktor check it over one of the nights he stayed.

"Wonderful, Honey, wonderful!" He'd called, rapturously clapping and a bright grin on his face. "You nailed those Lutzes, and that sit spin at the end, God, you're marvelous!"

Friday, the eve of the competition, you felt queasy. It was a fact that even at your highest level of confidence, you were nervous. You barely ate, drank far too much earlgray tea with lots of cream. This was also the day you sucked in practice.

Yakov yelled mainly at you, almost swearing when you messed up a single toe loop. He called for break, and while everyone else around you went silently to the break room, equally as nervous as you were, you were pissed. Almost sprinting to the gate, you sat at the bench and hurried to get your skates off. The day before competitions you were a wreck, you had always known it, but you were frustrated and just wanted to scream. Instead, you ran to grab your phone and dialed Veronica.

"I'm so fucking done," You almost yelled in the hallway, hand on your forehead. "Dude. I fell out of a toe loop and an axel. They weren't even fucking doubles or triples. Tomorrow is going to be shitty."

She tried to soothe you, but you weren't having it. If you lost tomorrow, you had to find another coach. That was the deal. The other alternative wasn't really that good in hindsight either, but it's better than having to leave one of the best coaches in Russian figure skating.

"Honey." Veronica snapped, making you stop your pacing. "Chill. You always get like this before a competition. This happened last year before the finals. You know what happened? You won." You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. Mila and Viktor had come and waited for you outside the break room. "After practice, go do some ballet. I know that's always helped you. You can do it." After saying thank you and goodnight, you walked up to the mischevious twosome.

"You okay?" Viktor asked. "Everyone heard your yelling." You nodded, moving past them to the fridge. Nobody was talking, and you tried to ignore the deafening roar of them looking at you. You grabbed a soda and the bag of cherries you'd brought and went back to Mila and Viktor.

"Hey. I'm okay." Giving them a smile, you showed them your food. "I'm just gonna eat in the locker room. It may be unsanitary but it's better than in there. See you back on the ice." You made your way down the hallway, popping open the soda on your way. Generally, you didn't drink it, but it somehow helped calm your nerves.

Without warning, someone popped up beside you. Yuri.

"Go the fuck away," You took another sip of your soda.

"Talk to me." Yuri grabs your arm, making you stop.

Raising your eyebrows, you try to grab your arm back. "Like hell I will. Not to you."

"Honey. Please." 

"What Yuri?" Your voice is clear, stunning him. "What the fuck could you want to talk to me about? Two weeks ago we were rivals now all of a fucking sudden you actually care when I'm distressed? Guess what, you bastard- I don't want to talk to you."

You storm off, but not in the direction of the locker room- the exit doors. It didn't matter if you'd get reminders or extra practices- you needed away from that building and the people.

Since you really didn't have anywhere else to go, you went home. You and Anichka had gotten along fairly well, mainly conversations face-to-face on the weekends, but it felt nice. You turned on the lights as you walked in, checking the clock as you went past it. Twelve fifty two. You should tell somebody. You can do that later.

It had never been this bad before. Usually, you would just do some stretches and listen to your song or songs again and be good to go. Right now though, everything was so complicated. Every thing felt wrong. Yuri grabbed your arm. There was a look of worry in his eyes. But he  _hated_ you. He had never wanted to do anything with you ever. That was until you moved; than it all changed.

You didn't know whether to be grateful it was over or sad because it was all wrong. You set your coke and cherries on your desk and climbed onto your bed. Unlocking your phone, you saw two missed calls from Viktor, three from Mila and sixteen from Yuri. The texts were worse.

 _'Yakov is pissed. he looks like he could kill you._ ' Mila...

 _'I'm really, really worried about you Honey. Call or text me.'_ Viktor...

 _'i am sorry please please please come back to the rink please please please'_  and Yuri.

For a second, you thought about going back. But you couldn't. You clicked on the number and waited for it to ring.

"Honey, you  _bitch_ ," Yuri's voice sounded relieved. "Come back please we're all worried, Yakov won't let any of us practice until you're back."

"I'm not going back today." Your voice was sharp, unwavering. "I can't. My mental health is more important than practicing. Tell Yakov I won't come back till after hours so he's wasting time."

"I'm sorry." He sounded so sincere it surprised you.

"I didn't mean to make you run off like that. I guess I should've expected you to not want to talk to me..."

"Yuri."

"Yes?"

"I forgive you."

You hung up after that, shut your phone off and closed your eyes, hoping your dreams were a good escape until tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy with how well this fic is being received ! ive been writing nonstop for it because for once it feels like I'm going to finish a fic. go ahead and leave a kudos and comment if u like !


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honey's program song is an actual song by foals, its one of my favorites at the moment and recommend listening to it while reading this !

Your costume was an extravagant thing, your most expensive costume. You wore it for an exhibition skate before last year's season in your hometown. Lilac, a sheer skirt that, when you span, turned it dancing rainbows. Since it was your farewell, of sorts, to your hometown, your parents bought you two new pairs of skates: the white ones you wore during practice and with all of your other costumes, and ones that matched the skirt. The top part of it matched the glitz and glam of the rest of the costume, but in a subdued way. There were lines on the side to help you appear taller, and the sleeves were sheer, without the glitter. It reminded you of when you were little and loved anything that glittered, but it was also a slight transition into maturity, away from it all.

You thought it matched the program, somehow, but you also wanted to look as beautiful as you knew Yuri would. As much as you loved the adrenaline of the turns, you couldn't help but want to look perfect. Perfectionism flowed through your veins as strong as the blood did.

The night after your outburst, Viktor came over with take out to make sure you were okay. You watched some movie with him until you accidentally fell asleep on his lap as he played with your hair. It surprised you when he told you in the morning, as usually you hated it.

"I'm like your older brother!" Viktor joked, grinning at you as you finished eating the breakfast he'd made.

"Shut it!" You had yelled back, silently happy you had someone like him in your life.

Now though, as you looked yourself over in the mirror, you were not in a joking mood. It had fully, entirely sunk in, that if you lost this competition, you were to leave Yakov and most likely move back to America.

"Honey?" Viktor knocked on your door. You padded over to the door and opened it without looking at him. While you were flitting around your room, throwing things into your duffel bag for after everything was said and done, he was clapping and gasping at the costume.

"That has to have cost almost as much as my costumes! Oh, my god, Honey, you look breathtaking!"

Handing him your phone, you looked yourself in the mirror one last time to make sure everything is okay. Your hair was curled and your makeup done to last through the sweating that was bound to happen. Nodding after brushing back a flyaway hair, you swiped on some deodorant and sprayed some perfume on before smiling at him.

"Take a picture of me, please."

After snapping a few pictures, you went down to his car and made your way to the rink. It was only six, and the competition started at eight, which gave you plenty of time to stretch and do a few press interviews before hand. News had spread quickly and as the skating world soon became intrigued by you and Yuri, ticket sales were expected to be quite high.

"Nervous?" Viktor asks as you scrolled through Instagram, getting comments of good luck on the picture you posted of you in your costume. Yuri had also posted one and honestly, he looked fantastic.

"No," You reply, shutting your phone completely off and stuffing it in the front pocket of your bag. "Most of my nerves left last night, as per usual. I guess I should be grateful for that."

He nods as he pulls into the parking lot, crowds of people cheering as you rolled your window down. The line was already huge, trying to get a glimpse of you and Yuri before doors opened. Usually you would've gotten here a lot earlier as to avoid this but at this certain moment, you couldn't care less.

"I'll open the door for you," Viktor takes the keys out of the ignition and hurries over to your door. As soon as you step out, reporters come your way, asking questions about why you have such a fierce rivalry with Yuri and what your hopes for this upcoming season are. You ignore all of them, pushing your way through the screaming crowd and finding the front door. Thankfully, guards are waiting for you as you and Viktor walk through, making sure nobody else gets in.

The order of which who would go first was determined at random, in whichever way was decided by the judges. Before the practice skate, the judges will figure out the order and will announce it over the loud speaker. You couldn't help but wish to go first.

As expected, Yuri was already there, stretching in the locker room. He took his earbuds out as you walked in, Viktor leaving to go find a seat and wait for Mila.

"I saw your post." You state meekly, wanting to start some sort of conversation. "You looked nice."

You wince the moment you realize what you said. Yuri stares at you with an unreadable expression as you throw your bag into your locker and sit down to stretch.

"I'm sorry about yesterday."

You look up, seeing Yuri staring at nothing.

"You never say sorry about anything, yet you've apologized to me at least six times in the past twenty-four hours. Didn't I say it was fine?"

"Than why won't you fucking have a conversation with me?"

Yuri's sudden raised tone surprises you and makes you jump. His eyes were on you, filled with intensity and confusion. Perplexed, you reply.

"I thought it was pretty clear that we're enemies. I mean," You sigh, smiling ruefully at the ceiling. "We made a deal that if I lose this I have to leave Yakov. Why else would you even suggest it?"

"I don't know! I don't know how I feel about you being here or training with me or just about you in general!" Yuri stands, walking towards you. You stand as well, backing against the lockers.

"What do you mean, Yuri?" Your heart was beating rapidly, concerned about the look in his eyes.

He takes one last step, just a few centimeters in front of you. You're close enough to him to see the sweat around his hairline and the freckles dotted very, very faintly along his cheeks and nose.

"You confuse me. You make me so, fucking angry but there are moments where I just want to talk to you." The room is silent for a while.

"I have an idea." Your shakey voice breaks the steady hum of the air conditioner. "Let's change the terms. If I lose, I have to talk to you. Deal?"

You put out a hand for him to shake. Without a word, he takes it, holding on maybe a bit too longer after the shake. He leaves the room afterwards, taking his earbuds with him. You realise that you'd been holding your breath.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~~

Three interviews, an hour of stretching and thousands of glances at Yuri later, the judges finally come over the loud speaker as you stand waiting for the practice skate to start.

"Names have been drawn. First to skate will be Yuri Plisetsky, last to skate will be Honey /L/N/."

Cheers erupt as the worry in your chest grows. Startling you, a hand is on your shoulder and you look around to see Yuri.

"Good luck, you asshole."

You smile before entering the rink, shoving your ear buds into your ears and phone into your pocket. Spanish Sahara plays on a loop as you skate a lap, getting into focus. Your mind reads the sheet music you'd found when you decided this was your piece. As the music got to the first chorus, you closed your eyes and started gaining momentum, faster, faster, until you fell into the first combination. You nailed it and smiled, opening your eyes before hurrying to practice to other one, and the one axel in it before starting on the Lutz. This had always been one of the most difficult one to land for you, and you knew yourself well enough to know if you couldn't do it right now, your program was going to be a mess.

The dull drone of the crowd fell away, the music fell away until the only thing that remained was the cut of your skates on the ice. Without thought, you started the rotations, one... two... and suddenly the music came back. The crowd came back. The ice wasn't under your feet anymore, it was under your back, and someone was grabbing at your arms.

"Honey? Honey are you okay?" Yuri's concerned voice came through, and you pulled out your earbuds slowly.

"What happened?"

He sighs, and you look down. You'd fallen. Your phone was lying on the ice, not cracked, thankfully, and everything was blurry.

"I messed up." Getting to your feet far too quickly, you snatched your phone up. "I fucking fell. Goddamnit, I shouldn't have practiced it, how much longer is there?"

Surprising you, Yuri didn't reply. He stood up and wiped your cheek. You hadn't realized you were crying. Putting your hand over his, you looked at him.

"What are you doing?"

He shook his head, retracting his hand. You stood there for a moment, feeling the blush dancing across your cheeks and nose. There was something... Different, about Yuri. He was concerned. There wasn't an air of anger surrounding him for once. He seemed like he cared.

Shaking your head, you skated towards the gate. You looked at your phone clock and saw there was only three minutes left and decided that was enough for one day. Viktor was waiting for you, water in hand, and you grabbed the bottle from him.

"What happened out there?" Viktor seemed confused and watched Yuri distractedly practicing his triple axel.

"Nothing. I'm going to go stretch some more," You handed the water back to him. "If he asks for some reason, tell him I'm sorry for not seeing his program."

And you're off down the hallway.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Five minutes later, you heard muffled speaking from the intercom. Yuri must be going now. You had seen him practicing the past week and the technical aspect of it was amazing. There wasn't much... Passion to it though. The song was loud, almost metal, but also reminded you of your short program.

Stretching even harder - you weren't naturally flexible, not in the slightest - you could feel tears burning in your eyes. Yuri would win, no matter how dispassionately he skated. That's what natural ability got people; someone like you didn't belong in the circuit. An outsider. That's all you'd ever be.

As Yuri's music faded into cheering from the crowd, you dragged yourself up from the floor and put your phone away into your locker. Stepping out of your shoes, you started to lace up your skates. They looked practically brand new, making you wonder if you should buy new ones for the hell of it.

"Good luck, Honey," Mila's voice surprised you as you turned around, grateful for the smiling face. "I really hope you don't leave."

You nodded. You didn't know whether or not to tell her the change in plans, and decided against it at the last minute. It didn't matter, he'd probably go back on it as soon as he was on the platform.

"Thank you, Mila. I appreciate everything you've done for me. I'm ready to skate against you someday." Shooting her a smile, she helped you down to the rink, fixing your hair back into its pins and straightening your outfit.

"Now Honey /L/N/ will take to the rink!" The announcer's booming voice over the PA system made you jump. Curiously, while taking off your guards, you looked up at the scores. Yuri had made a 101.98. Shaking your head, you smiled at Mila one last time before shrugging off your jacket and making your way onto the ice.

Immediately there was screaming from every direction, and you waved and smiled at everyone. No matter how many competitions you competed in, this never got old. You made one loop around the rink before making your way to the center and taking your beginning pose. As the music started, the crowd went deadly silent.

The beginning notes started out after several deadly silent seconds. As the voice started, you started your first step sequence, and as the bass joined in, you made your first combination. Slowly, you picked up speed and momentum, losing yourself in the lyrics, forgetting everyone around you. Thinking back to what Viktor told you just a few nights ago, you could feel yourself starting to cry.

"Think about what the lyrics mean to you. Think of somebody or something it reminds you of, a time in your life. The entire point of ice skating is emotion and portraying the music the way you see it. This is your art, Honey, make it your own."

Taking those words and running free with them, you let the tears fall gracefully as you started into your second step sequence, falling, falling into the choreography. Everything about this piece reminded of just a few months ago when your entire perspective on life had changed. You had been getting bronze at all of the competitions you went to, and since it was just before the Grand Prix started, everything in your future seemed bleak. Only twelve years old and you already felt like you weren't enough for the future you saw for yourself.

Your mom had told you about mental illness. It ran in the family; your grandfather suffered from schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, your great-grandmother had panic disorder and severe depression. The list went on and on and the entire time you spent thinking that what you were feeling was a sickness. You couldn't be sick, you reasoned. You were just a kid. There's no way you could have fucking depression.

Of course, that was wrong. She had noticed your behaviour and got you into a doctor immediately, discussed antidepressants and getting you a therapist. This all went down while you were skating, and nobody knew, not even Veronica. After a while everything got better, you started feeling like you used to, but you couldn't forget that feeling of absolute desertion. Like everything that made you, you, had left your body. That's something you didn't want to go back to.

After the second verse, the beat started punctuating each word and driving determination into your bones, you flew with all your might into that triple Lutz. Without realizing if you had enough rotations in it or that you'd  _put your arm up_ , you continued on with the program. Slowly but surely the song lessened in intensity. Your last spin was an axel, and you landed it with grace. The end of the song came and your final pose was full of the emotion it had been lacking before; arms outstretched, tear-stained cheeks, looking directly at Yuri.

"That was Honey /L/N/ everybody!" The overwhelming cheers and applause from the crowd broke your reverie, looking around you. Flowers and plushed toys of your favorite animal were everywhere and you couldn't help but try to grab them all, feeling grateful for your fans.

As you skated over to the gate and the kiss and cry, Mila and Viktor tackled you in a hug before pushing you over to where Yakov sat.

"Viktor!" You yelled. "Sit on my left! You helped me out there, you deserve it!"

And so, Yakov on your right, Viktor on your left you waited impatiently for the judges to announce your score.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the score for Honey /L/N/'s free program is..." You waited on the edge of your seat, gripping Viktor's hand entirely too hard.

"110.9!" Your voice cracked as you screamed, jumping up and hugging Viktor far too hard. Finally, after ten years of training and traveling, you finally beat Yuri Plisetsky. Speaking of the boy, he was already leaving the rink, hurriedly packing his things before anyone could talk to him. You didn't know this though; all you knew was that you were staying and you got one of the best scores you'd ever made.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! sorry its taken me so long to update, ive just been insanely busy the past few weeks; my birthday was June 22nd, we had a vacation the first week of July BUT before we left (like literally a day or two before) we found out I had bed bugs. no, im not a gross messy person I swear, we are literally so confused as to how I got them. however, we did manage to get rid of them- with sacrificing my bed. oh well though !! I have my room back and now I can FINISH this fic, which im hoping to accomplish before the 17th of next month, as thats when I go back to school. love you all, if any of you have any talent what so ever with making playlists, lemme know if you make one, id love to listen to it!!!!  
> edit: as im finishing this im competing in a thing on tumblr, and im working a video collab on YouTube, because of which might cause me to be late updating.

Yuri didn't show up for the dinner that night, but nobody really thought too much of it. Viktor and Mila were excited to start the pair skate but you couldn't help but worry it'd be a waste of your time.

"We have the Grand Prix coming up," You explained, making Viktor roll his eyes. "Both of us want and need to work on our programs."

"It's just a couple nights a week!" Mila was surprisingly more persistent than Viktor about all of this.

"Fine, whatever..." You took a drink of your soda. "Yuri still has a decision in this."

"Yuri agreed to the bet, and so did you, Honey," Viktor reminded.

Twenty minutes later Viktor dropped you off at your house and you checked your phone to see a shit ton of notifications from Instagram- more than usual. You clicked on the newest one and scrolled down and saw everyone was mentioning you in a post- Yuri's post.

He had posted a video of your program. Watching it back, it was almost flawless, the best you'd ever done to be honest. You were crying and your facial expressions were spot on. In the comments there were a few avid Yuri fans who dissed you, saying you were too fat to be an ice skater or other shitty insults. Immediately, you went to call him.  
You were both pissed and slightly grateful for the boy at that moment.

"Dude," You didn't let him reply when he picked up his phone. "Thank you. So much. Oh my god, I can't believe I fucking beat you!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He sounded... sad. Not pissed, not like he was about to start teasing you. Purely, undeniably upset.

"What's wrong, Yuri?" You were hesitant to ask him. He was known for his hot headedness and didn't know if asking him forthright was the right thing to do.

"Nothing, Honey. Congratulations." His tone didn't change. Sitting down on the couch, you thought back to when you made the bet. Because you won, you had to do a pair skate. And you didn't have to be his friend.

"Yuri," Your voice got softer at the realization: he was sad because he actually wanted to befriend you. "You do realize that because I won and Viktor definitely won't let us back out of it, we're gonna become friends. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Honey," His voice went hard. "Forget about it. I'm not doing the pair skate. End of fucking story."

"Dude!" The line went dead. With a resigned sigh, you went to the kitchen and got a bottle of water before heading to your room for bed. Anichka and you would celebrate her next day off, so you didn't feel bad about her not being home. Still, you hadn't gotten a call from Veronica. Oh well, right? She'd call as soon as she could.

~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
You were wrong. She didn't call back in the morning at practice, or on your break, or when you got home. Fed up, you decided to call her.

"What the fuck dude?" You didn't care anymore if it was late, she was being a bitch; your parents had told her, you knew that much, what you didn't know was why she never called you.

"What, Honey? Jesus christ, it's almost one in the morning."

"I won the competition. Why haven't you even sent me a text, dude? I thought you would be just as excited about it as me."

She sighed, and you imagined her closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead.

"You're in Russia. I'm here. I don't care as much as you'd like to believe. I'm sorry if I'm being rude but I want to sleep and you're being annoying"

"Uh... yeah. I hear you. I just thought you'd want to cheer me on is all."

"I do, Honey. But I'm just as busy as you are right now and I just don't have the time to talk to you."

"Oh." You sank to the couch, feeling the tears pricking at your eyes. "Yeah I get it. Sorry for waking you up."

"Honey, wait-"

"Veronica, it's fine. Text me when you're not busy, I suppose. Bye."

You ended the call. Your phone fell to the floor. You vaguely remember eating toast for dinner that night, trudging to your room with your phone in hand. The morning after you overslept and didn't feel like practicing; you'd never missed practice since the one time you got sick when you were 9. Nobody here knew that, and Anichka had left for work earlier that morning. The few times you woke up you missed your mom, and wanted somebody to be there for you.

Later that day, Mila and Viktor showed up. They went to your room, woke you up. As soon as you saw who it was you burst into tears.

"I can't do this anymore." You'd sobbed, putting a pillow to your face. "I miss America. This isn't worth it."

Mila climbed up to your bed, moving you over so your head rested in her lap.

"I know, Honey. I know."

After you were done crying, you lead Mila and Viktor back out to the living room. He went to go grab you a glass of water and started making you a sandwich while Mila sat you down to explain what had happened the night before.

"My friend Veronica in America said she couldn't be my friend, that," You took a deep breath. "She said she was too busy. She made it sound like being my friend was a hassle. I mean, right now I guess I am. But I thought she'd always be there supporting me."

Viktor came and sat next to you, taking you into his arms after he sat your food down.

"You do know that you're not a hassle to be friends with, right? Even if you moved back to America I'd make the effort to talk to you. You're worth so much more than her, okay? Don't let some girl halfway across the world make you feel the way you're feeling right now."

"What Viktor said. Actually," Mila smirked slightly. "Yuri was upset you didn't show up today. Was more pissy than usual."

You shook your head, moving closer to Viktor. He was the closest you'd ever had to a brother, you just realised. It felt nice to have somebody like him who made you feel so calm.

"Speaking of, when are you and him starting the pair skate? Mila and I already have the choreography ready and everything."

Moment broken. You stand up, grabbing the sandwich and walking to lean on the wall.

"He doesn't seem like he wants to do it anymore. I don't want to force him to do anything he doesn't want to do."

Viktor spoke up this time, teasing smile on his lips.

"What about you? Do you want to do it."

You paused a moment too long, making the two of them laugh. Shaking your head again, you pointed to the door.

"Get out if you're gonna be this way. I have things to do you know."

Mila raised your eyebrows. "Like going back to sleep? No, we're gonna spend the night. Maybe even invite Yuri over as well."

Eyes wide, you shook your head, running towards Viktor as he got his phone out and started looking for Yuri's contact.

"Viktor Nikiforov don't you dare!" You struggled to grab his phone as he stood up, making it near impossible for you to even attempt to get it.

"Oh you're such a bastard, you know that right?" He just smirked as his phone rang. Yuri picked up on the fifth ring, much to the disappointment of you.

"Hey, Yuri. Guess what? We're having a sleepover at Honey's- yes, she's fine, but I think she'd be even better if you joined us over here? Sweet." The call ended and you slumped into the couch, pissed off and wondering what the hell the next 8 hours were going to hold for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading, ill get the next part up as fast as I can. I wanna make a little disclaimer: both you and Yuri are only 13, almost 14 years old. because of that, as I am 14, I think it's highly inaccurate to write any smut for this or the upcoming fic after I finish this one. not saying 14 year olds dont have sex, but I dont think either one of them are comfortable or have enough time at this very moment. hope you understand!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for staying with me!!! an explanation as to wHY MY UPDATES ALWAYS TAKE SO LONG and just. AgH ily

Yuri showed up about twenty minutes later. Mila was the one to get the door, as you were comfortable laying on Viktor and for once in the past 36 hours you felt like everything was going to be okay.

"Why is she laying on Viktor?" Yuri's disgruntled voice appeared next to you, and you sighed before closing your eyes even tighter.

"Why you invited him is a mystery to me."

"Because he likes you, Honey!" You heard Viktor gasp after Yuri, assumedly, hit him over the head.

"If we're not going to do anything besides sit and watch TV I'm leaving," Yuri stated, making his way for the door and, with a sigh, you open your eyes and grab his wrist.

"Fine, just help me get some blankets from the hall closet. If we're having a sleepover we're going to do it right."

Standing, you and Yuri made your way to the closet in silence as Mila and Viktor started whispering. Shaking your head, you could only imagine what they were plotting.

"I have a question," You stopped by the closet next to the bathroom and opened it, grabbing three quilts and handing them to Yuri.

"Yes?" His voice was muffled behind them.

"Why did you come? I thought you'd hate me now, if I'm being completely honest. And you don't really seem like the sleepover type."

He didn't reply till you'd closed the door, five pillows in hand.

"I was worried." His explanation was quiet, and you had just barely heard it. Nodding, you decided to let it go and didn't speak on the way back to the loving room.

After you'd set up a make-shift bed on the floor for whichever three wanted to sleep on the floor, you went into the kitchen and grabbed some potato chips and some sodas from the fridge.

"Eat up, heathens," You stated in English, surprising the group. They had only heard you speak in your native tongue when you had spoken to Veronica at practice and when you had to ask for a translation for a word you didn't know.

"Yes, I'm a gross American, we know this," Sighing, you plopped down onto the floor and turned the TV on if just for something to have on in the background.

"Sorry, Honey," Viktor said to break the silence. "We just forget sometimes. That's all."

You shake your head, cracking open one of the sodas. "You're fine. I get it, I hardly mention it. If I'm being honest, I kinda hate when I do mention it. I feel lesser than everybody, like I should know how to say that word in Russian and... I don't know. I'm so fucking smart when I'm talking to my mother or Veronica but whenever I have to ask how to pronounce a word or accidentally saying something wrong in Russian I just feel so goddamn stupid."

Everyone nodded. It hadn't been something you'd been thinking about a shit ton, but every once in a while you couldn't help but feel like you should be studying more or just wish you'd been born in Russia.

"You do know we don't care that you're American, right?" Mila says sympathetically. "It's so cool, Honey. We don't mind helping you, either. Please remember that."

You took a sip and looked down at your hands. "Yeah. I know. Sorry, I just... I don't know. Sometimes I just wonder if it really was a good idea to move here, I guess. It was so hard trying to figure everything out, trying to even be able to move here was so stressful. All because I wanted to beat Yuri." You laughed and shook your head. "God I was an idiot."

Yuri hadn't said anything throughout the entire conversation, but now he was confused and a little bit pissed off.  
"You moved here just so you could beat me?" You nodded.

"You know I never back down, Yuri. That was the reason, I suppose. If I really wanted to I could move back, mom has told me. But I like it here. Back at my home rink most people take the lessons as some sort of hobby, to get some exercise. Which I dont have an issue with," You direct a pointed look at Yuri," I dont have an issue with, but its nice to be surrounded by people with the same intentions. Thank you for helping me out the past couple months, it's been crazy."

Viktor kneeled down an hugged you, making you laugh, and soon enough everybody was down on the floor around the coffee table playing truth or dare.

"Honey," Viktor said with a devious grin, already knowing your rule. "Truth or dare?"

Rolling your eyes, you popped another chip in your mouth before answering with dare.

"Big mistake, my friend," He pointed to Yuri, on your left. "I dare you to braid his hair."

Grinning, you turned towards him, who gave you the biggest glare you thought he'd ever directed towards you.

"Don't even try."

"Oh, calm down, you would look simply gorgeous with a French braid." With a resigned sigh, you grabbed his hair and started pulling it back to start on it. His hair was soft, and absolutely gorgeous. You'd chopped your hair off not too long before your move, you're glad you did it; you never felt confident with it long.

"Okay, truth or dare... Yuri." He sighed, and you just smiled to yourself.

"Truth."

"Is it true that you wanted to be friends with me and, if so, why?"

The room got deadly silent. Just a moment ago Viktor had been taking pictures of the two of you and now he was still, waiting for the answer.

"Because you aren't as annoying as those two over there, and you're a cat person. I'm expecting you to somehow get your cat over here, by the way."

You smirked. Usually you wouldn't have asked him a question like that during a game of truth or dare, but you couldn't help it. It had been in your mind since the phone call.

Viktor and Mila went to bed an hour later, as they didnt want to be tired for practice the next morning. But you and Yuri stayed up and talked, simply because you felt you owed him an explanation.

"You like me," You smiled at him as you started picking up the scattered cans (as Yuri and you had thrown a couple of them earlier that night.)

"No," Yuri stated. "I tolerate you. Big difference."

You just nodded, making your way to the kitchen to throw the trash away before going to get your phone. Yuri joined you, neither of you speaking before you opened your bedroom door.

"Welcome to the lair of Honey. As you can tell, I'm very into the minimalistic aesthetic. And I also didn't really bring any room decor."

Yuri looked at your posters above your desk, one of a kitten and the other of you in your last free skate, which a fan of yours had painted.

"I'm just getting my phone. I haven't been on it since last night and i want to take some pictures. Tonight has been great, Yuri." You climb down from your bed, walking towards him.

"Want to stay in here and talk or are you exhausted and have had enough of me for the night?"

He just shrugged. "Whichever is fine."

You nodded and gestured to your desk chair as you went and say against the wall, waiting for your phone to turn on.

"What happened last night?" Yuri said, breaking the silence between you.

"Nobody really explained it to me."

You sighed and nodded, going into the sordid tale of your ex-best-friend not being able to keep up with you anymore.

"Well that's one dumb fucking bitch," Yuri sighed. "No offense."

You grinned before turning to your phone.

"I know you Yuri; nothing you say is never not offensive."

You go onto Instagram, nothing really piquing your interest.

"Hey," You said, standing up before walking over towards him. "Let me post a picture of us. Please?"

He nodded and you grinned as you took a picture with him and all his French-braided hair glory.

"You look so pretty, by the way," You said off-handedly. You didn't notice the way he smiled at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay literally as im writing this note I got bored and unmotivated if that doesnt tell u who I am idk what does  
> but hi !!! sorry my updates always take forever im just a LAZY ASSHOLE but I do have a portion of the next chapter written and im gonna try to write a part and post it each week !!!! thank u all for staying here and commenting I really really appreciate it !!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! youre welcome for this chapter, sorry it took so long- i wanted it to be perfect so when i rewrite i wont cringe as much!

Yuri went over to your house after practice the next day for dinner. Anichka was getting a day off and she wanted to meet your friends, but as Viktor and Mila were busy, it was just Yuri. Beyond that though, the two of you needed- wanted -to talk about the pair skating situation.

The drive over was quiet, the two of you playing some game on your IPhones to pass the time. This was how most of your downtime with him ended up being; he wasn’t too chatty of a person, and you didn’t like upsetting him by accident, so you both settled on getting mildly angry playing 8 ball and cursing each other out silently.

When the cab got to the apartment, you smiled at Yuri before paying the taxi driver. The practice went amazing; your short program was almost perfect, as Glory was an easier piece to do emotionally (technically, however, was a bit more intense.) Spanish Sahara was taking more effort, as it seemed that one performance had been your peak. Yakov was frustrated, you were frustrated, but you knew you could find what was missing from the performance. You have been landing the Lutze, however, so it wasn’t too devastating.

Yuri and you went up to the apartment, close together to both try and warm each other up and, unbeknownst to the two of you, you were starting to fall for the blond-haired diva, and he was falling for you even harder. You started rambling about how amazing Anichka is and although you haven’t ate that many meals from her, each one of them were the best you’d ever have. In all honesty, you didn’t care all that much for Russian cuisine, but the way she cooked it made it so much better.

Yuri smiled slightly as your mouth moved a mile a minute; he noticed how, even though you talked fast most of the time, when you were talking about something you immensely enjoyed, you’d start stumbling over words because of how fast you were talking. He thought it was cute.

“Anyway, Yuri,” You said, slowing down a bit as you finished. “Can we talk about that pair skate?”

The boy stopped in his tracks. He’d completely forgotten about the pair skate; the night he said he wouldn’t do it he was angry about losing the competition, and kinda blocked most of it out.

“Sure,” He said, hesitantly. He knew it might be off the table, after everything he’d done to her in the past.

“I want to do it. I don’t want to force you into it bec-”

“Me too.” Before you could question about why he sounded so earnest, desperate, even, you were at the apartment. Smiling, you opened the door and swung you bag over to the couch before running into the couch.

Yuri could hear your excited chatter, smiling to himself as he closed the door and took off his shoes. If he was being honest, he was nervous to meet Anichka. Usually he couldn’t care less about friend’s parents or authority figures in general, but he really didn’t want to make a bad impression on Anichka.

“And this is Yuri…” Anichka looked Yuri up and down as he walked in, you leaning on the counter, tapping your fingers against the linoleum (something he only ever did when you were anxious about something) and watching him with a slight smile and worried eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Pavlovna,” Yuri smiles, and Anichka smiles back.

“Please, just call me Anichka. Honestly, I’m grateful for you,” She sighs, and as your face starts to break out in fear, Anichka turns around and heads to the stove.

“How anybody can be friends with someone as mean as she is  _ must _ be a saint. Plus, Yuri, you know her history.” He nods once or twice before joining you by the counter, discretely squezzing your arm in a way to calm you down.

After dinner and several embarrassing stories told by Anichka from the many times you’d visited when you were younger, you and Yuri went back to your room. You and him wanted- no,  _ needed _ to talk about the pair skate. While it was awkward and a confusing topic, what was even more confusing was the way he was treating you.

“I need to know, Honey,” Yuri asks as you plop down on the ground. “Do you genuinely want to do the pair skate?”

You looked up at him and thought. Of course, you enjoyed spending time; you knew he was abrasive and cold, but recently that had been on the more rare side of the spectrum. You’d grown used to him growing mean when you asked a question he didn’t want to answer, it meant you’d crossed some unspoken line.

With one nod of your head, he joined you, and you rested on his lap. He was your comfort, something you never would’ve expected. He was mean, and disrespectful, and a countless other flaws but he was loyal and thoughtful and understanding- everything you needed at this moment. With the countless changes and inconsistencies in your life right now, you wanted a constant. Maybe Yuri was mean, but he was thirteen; still young. There was still room to grow.

“I want to do it too, than. I’d enjoy that.” Smiling to yourself, he played with your hair as you rested your eyes.

~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Seriously!?” Mila and Viktor’s voice echoed across the empty rink as you told them the day after. You and Yuri had both agreed you were the only one who could really deal with them, but you knew that they’d start interrogating him the moment you were done explaining.

“We both want to do it,” Nodding along to the music you were playing softly in the background, you soon became oblivious to what they were asking you about, thinking about the step sequence that you’d do at this part, right after the chorus. 

“Honey!” Your head jerked from your reverie, a slight blush spreading across your cheeks. 

“Yes?”

“Are you positive?” You knew whatever you said they wouldn’t care, but after you jerked your head yes once, they were off to find out wherever the fuck Yuri ran off to. Sighing, you turned around and started to skate again. After you and him had decided to do the skate, you and him started taking pictures and all in all got to know each other. It turned out that he had a cat, one of which you would kill to have, and that he enjoyed your skating.

“Why did you post that video of me that night I was at Viktor’s?” You asked nonchalantly, not very concerned with his answer but curious none-the-less. After a while, you’d gotten over it, and it was a funny video, but you couldn’t help but think there was a bigger motive behind it.   
He shrugged, obviously trying to avoid answering, before you realized something massive.

“Hey!” Grabbing his arm, you dragged him closer to you, forcing him to look you in the eye. “How’d you even know I had that video!?”

Yuri stayed silent, avoiding the question for a few moments while he tried to figure out an excuse. He didn’t intend to post anything, but he was looking through your camera roll and found it and (althought he’d never admit it to you) thought the video was cute, but knew you’d think differently.

“I was looking for more pictures of your cats and saw it and thought why not post it?” He said this all quickly, trying to get over it and to move on to something else. 

You just looked at him skeptically but accepted his explanation. The rest of the night was spent talking about random stuff from America, things you enjoyed besides skating and how you knew if you weren’t skating you’d be dancing. It was cliche, you knew it, but ballet was something that had captured your interest in the same way that ice skating had. Because of your irrevocable dedication to skating, you couldn’t put as much effort into it as you wished (just like with the rest of your interests,) but you still tried to see as many ballet performances as you could.

Yuri had also surprised you, after you’d spoken to him about his interests. He was stubborn, just like you were, but it seemed he was more-so into it to prove himself to somebody. To who, you didn’t know, but the way he spoke about Viktor made it seem like he was both inspired by him and was jealous of him. Viktor was several years older than him, and therefore more experienced, but there was something about the tone and the word choices that made it seem like there was a personal grudge between the two.

You didn’t say anything about it, however, and let it be. It didn’t concern you and whatever kept Yuri on the ice wasn’t anything for you to worry about. After a while, you got tired, and Yuri did too, so you said your goodbyes as he left the apartment. Anichka would tell you later that night that he seemed very peculiar, and mature for his age in a strange way, and you couldn’t help but agree. Yes, he was disrespectful and didn’t know his boundaries but to both of you it seemed it came from past experiences.

When you woke up, you’d had a missed call from Yuri and a rambly voicemail that was just him worrying about what Mila and Viktor would do when they got to the rink. Sighing, you ignored him and just sent him a text telling him that they’d worry about it when they got there and hurried to get dressed.

Now here you were, waiting for when Yuri would storm in, fuming, and you would have to calm him down. It had been less than two months since your arrival in Russia, your only goal was to beat Yuri and to prove to him that you were an amazing skater,  _ never  _ would you have thought you’d become friends. Your mom had told you one night after the worst encounter you’d ever had with Yuri something you never forgot. It was after a competition right when the season started, and you had skated your worst that day. Anxiety was something you constantly fought when you were ten, as you were always afraid you’d never be as good as the other girls.

“Honey,” She had held you close as you cried, sitting on the corner of the bed in the hotel room while everyone else was at the banquet. “You did the best you could, and I am unbelievably proud of you.”

You shook your head, crying even harder. “I’ll never catch up, Mom! Not to the other girls, I will never beat Yuri!”

She had pulled you away from you sharply, making you hiccup.

“It doesn’t matter, and you know why?” You shook your head. “You enjoy skating, that’s why. You went into it to prove that boy wrong, but I  _ see _ the way you enjoy it. I don’t completely understand it, Honey, but I know that even if you stop competing, you won’t stop skating.” Your mother smiled, wiping away your tears. “The ice is your best friend, and I hope that even if all else fails, you won’t leave it.”

It was something you didn’t completely understand then, but after a while it made a lot of sense, especially now. Your best friend had moved on, and of course you had Viktor and Yuri, but it was so exhausting to have to explain everything and after a while you just wanted something, anything that would just  _ know  _ and could calm you and- it was ice.

Skating as you were right now was such a visceral thing. You knew it was inanimate, something that couldn’t speak or experience emotion, but it was always there. Of course, one day it might not be for one reason or another, but as you started into a step sequence, ignoring the sloppiness of it, you felt like it was the only true thing you had that you trusted immutably. No matter how many times you’d ever fallen, however many blisters and bruises you acquired every practice, it was your safe haven; your home. Nobody could ever take that away from you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im honestly so proud of this chapter, idk if it makes too much sense bc i dont read my chapters fully before posting them (its called me not wanting to lose confidence and delete the chapter) so if u have any suggestions at all let me know! only five chapters left before the sequel, but i want to rewrite it before i post one! should be done and over with before december at the latest !!!!!


	10. Chater 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry i suck but school is busy

"Ow. Ow. OW." Viktor and Mila had gone after practice to get food, as you'd be here for a few hours to work on the pair skate. They wanted you to skate it at an exhibition skate right at the start of the season, but so far you and Yuri hadn't been getting along.

"Can you shut up for five seconds?" Yuri's piercing voice echoed around the rink, making you roll your eyes and put the new bandage on your feet. Training with Yakov was a bitch, especially when you had to be your coach usually; you loved your old one, but she wasn't as commanding as you wished.

"Well I'm sorry for having a normal reaction to pain, Yuri," Shaking your head, you set your skates aside and stood up to walk towards him. He was standing on the side of the bleachers, waiting for you and scrolling through Instagram once again. You sling your arm over his shoulders as you walk to the break room to wait for the older two to come back.

The practice was horrible so far; Yuri refused to listen to Mila and Viktor was being far too touchy with you, although not really, he was moving you to help with your form or with the move.

You'd never really been into pair skating, just because you were a very independent person but especially when it came to your skating. Whenever you had to practice with the younger kids you got really frustrated, or even working with kids your own age, if you were being honest. They always talked too much or started some drama or other. They weren't ever concentrated on the skating, on the music; it didn't match well with you.

While you were skating, you noticed how Yuri skated. He was always right there on the edge of falling into the music, the performance. You noticed it with his other programs as well; he was an amazing skater, of course, but there was always something stopping him from completely listening to the songs or the lyrics, and it seemed to be keeping him from his best. In all honesty, Yuri was your biggest inspiration, even if it was in the form of a rivalry, but you never truly believed he was a fantastic actor. There was always a brick wall between himself and the emotions he seems to make, and whenever he was frustrated or upset, you just knew.

Stupidly, you decided to bring it up after you had gone through the first bars of the song, right before the build up in the chorus, much to the dismay of Viktor and Mila.

"Yuri, why are you holding back?" You had mentioned nonchalantly, skating over to his side while gasping for a breath. "I know how you used to skate, you were a lot better at feeling the program."

"Oh, fuck off, Honey," He'd shouted, glaring at you and skating away before you'd even reached him. Looking back at Viktor, he just shrugged. That's when both of them decided to go get food and left you and the he-devil alone.

“Have they texted you yet?” You asked him, slipping into the seat next to him and getting on your phone. They had been gone for a half hour now, way too long for just getting pizza, but you didn’t really care if you were being honest.

“Nope.” Yuri was tired; it weighed on his face and his shoulders, but his eyes were blazing with energy, as per usual, so you sighed, got your water from the fridge, before telling him they should work on the routine again.

The song was called Chamomile, and when they first played it you were filled with that weird safe-sadness feeling one gets when its raining outside during October, and you looked over and saw Yuri’s...disinterest. It confused you, but you and Yuri had vastly different tastes in music, both for skating and for casual listening.

But you loved the piece, it was absolutely beautiful. Mila and Viktor did a splendid job choreographing it, and you couldn’t help but want to work on it. It started off with soft strumming of a guitar, and after a few seconds a voice came in. The song structure itself was different that usual; there was no chorus, no verses, it sounded like a poem. It sounded like America, of your school and your friends. The day of performance, you knew you were either going to be crying or smiling like an idiot, but that was good. It meant you felt the piece.

Starting the song, you skate over to the middle quickly and close your eyes, feeling Yuri rest his arms on your waist. As the last chord is hit before the voice begins, you look up and open them, waking up. There were no lifts, as all four of you knew you didn’t have the confidence or, really, the ability to do even an armpit hold, but there were pair spins and double axels here and there. In all honesty, it was a simplistic routine, but since you weren’t competing with the piece- it was just an exhibition program -you loved it and fell into the acting.

At the end, at the last spin, you were exhilarated when you halted to a stop, right in front of Yuri. The music stopped, and you smiled at him, laughing and bringing him into a hug. He was smiling too, a wide, deep grin, and when you pulled away, he looked at you cautiously before kissing you. It was short, sweet, just a peck, and before you could say anything, bewildered and confused, his face paled and he rushed away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im doing a shit ton of stuff but i DID HOWEVER manage to write a 5k voltron fic so checc that out pls even if u dont watch the show AND the song i chose is SO GOOD its one of my favs rn and sorry there isnt much description for the routine i just wanted to get this out i SWEAR ill put more next chapter. only 5 more parts yall!!
> 
> song:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6RvcjEpGxcU ( i love him sm )


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its taken me so long to get this up! sadly, my schools football team has made it into playoffs, therefore im playing in the drumline every. friday. night. from now till whenever that ends lmao plus theatre practices start in a week or two, same with debate, and dance practices for my friend's quincenara starts soon (im in her court). im busy af but trust me this story is still very much going on and very much going to be finished before 2018.

“Keep your shitty nose out of my fucking business!"

You heard Yuri’s voice before you saw him. He was pissed, it was evident in the fact he was yelling in the first place. After the kiss, he’d left straight away; when Viktor and Mila got back, you’d just said you said something and he decided he had enough for one night.

It was way early the next morning. When you were upset, you threw yourself into your skating, and this time wasn’t any different. You were so confused, somewhat sad that your first kiss was taken by some jackass that didn’t even have the basic decency to talk to you about it afterward, but mainly upset about the fact you didn’t know what happened.

“Chillax, Yuri,” I walk into the break room to see him standing by the fridge, hands rolled into fists at his side and Viktor sitting down by the television, smiling.

“You can fuck off too, Honey,” You look at him, startled and confused. His hair is up in his half-up, half-down hairdo and he is royally, truly angry.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Slipping past him, you opened the fridge and grabbed a water and put your lunch away. Yuri left not long after, bumping into you on the way and causing you to flip off his retreating figure. You talked to Viktor for a bit before heading to the locker room to change.

Anichka had been home when you got there last night, and you talked to her about it. She didn’t make a big deal about it and actually let you explain, something that wouldn’t have happened with your mom, and she really didn’t know what to say. You and her both knew Yuri was hard to approach, especially about anything regarding his feelings, so you decided to leave it be for a while. Maybe. As you were tying up your skates, Yuri stormed in.

“What’s up with you today?” You asked without looking up. He flitted back and forth, back and forth, pacing up and down the room.

“Nothing, nothing…” Taking one last glance at him, you stood up and left him to pace by himself.

The rest of training, well, sucked. You did amazing, it was a good day in that sense, but Yuri was constantly picking apart your performance. You knew it was missing something, a tiny, miniscule thing, but you couldn’t for the life of all things holy figure out what it was. During lunch, you were on your phone mostly, scrolling through Instagram and Snapchat, posting a whole bunch of random pictures and videos of you, Viktor and Mila to try and make everything seem alright. Except for the fact they thought you’d know what was wrong with Yuri.

“I’m not too sure,” You smiled, trying to brush it off. “It’s Yuri though, right? He’s always in some state of pissy.”

Mila nodded along, agreeing, but you saw Viktor give you a look. You couldn’t really place it, you didn’t know how to, but when you saw him getting up you just knew what he was up to.

“Viktor Nikiforov!” You shouted, getting up, startling basically everyone in the room, but he didn’t listen to you. He walked out, you trailing behind, grabbing onto his shirt sleeve and trying with everything you knew to make him not get him.

“Yuri!” With Viktor’s voice shouting, you let go weakly, exhausted and the cold air making you clammy. Yuri looked up from his phone from where he sat on the bleachers, taking one look at him and- seemingly- not noticing you before scowling and looking back down. “What’s up with you?” Viktor walks up to him through the rows of metal seats, you sliding down the wall and putting your head in your hands.

“You’re still not done with that?” Yuri sighs loudly, and you almost, almost, smile.

“No. You’re a friend of mine, Yura, as much as you may deny it, and I am worried.” You looked up to see him looking stressed, for some reason. Yes, they were friends, you knew that- but he looked more worried about this than he really should be.

“Don’t call me that,” Yuri’s voice was softer, softer than it’d been all day.

“It’s your nickname.” Viktor brings Yuri into a hug, something that puzzles you. Viktor was an exuberant person, not necessarily emotional in the sense he was being now. It was a nice change, you suppose- you didn’t know why he so rarely emotional, but you enjoyed seeing him this way. It seemed Yuri did as well. “Now please, tell me what happened.”

“I’m still not telling you. I’m okay, Viktor.” Yuri hugged him back, for a moment, before getting up and walking down the bleachers. You came out from the hallway right as he was passing, and he smiled at you as you went to sit next to Viktor.

“You know, don’t you?” He pulled you in, and you leant on his shoulder. It was weird to you- you’d never felt so at ease with somebody, not someone older than you by five years and definitely not someone you met just barely a month ago.

“Yeah. And it sucks.” Rubbing your arm, you close your eyes and sleep until he’s jerking you awake, to the sound of shouting.

“Fuck off, for once, for God’s sake!’ Yuri was shouting again, and this time at Mila. You rubbed your eyes, looking up at Viktor. He saw you were awake, and stood to his feet, hurrying down to get in between the two of them.

“Yuri, I’ve done that before- hell, I usually always do that!”

“Than why not now?”

“Because it’s hurting her, dumbass!” Shocked, you saw Viktor angrily- angrily -standing over Yuri. Yuri took one look at you, without waiting for recognition or anything of the sort, before storming out of the rink. Right as he was by the bathrooms, where the hallway started, Yuri’s voice echoed.

“I kissed her, now leave me the fuck alone!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at the time of writing this i have 500 words and im exhausted but i need to push through this part of the story. once i finish i need to go through and edit the old chapters (id recommend rereading them before you read the sequel, once i post it) but then there will be the second book, then there will be a third. im not sure if there will be a fourth, if there is itll be when theyre 20 or so i think. anyways adios amigos, see yall in a bit


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said id get this done before the end of december. i think thats not gonna happen anymore. lol.

You invited Viktor over to your house after practice, wanting to just be able to yell about everything and cry a little, maybe, you weren't too sure. Yuri had left immediately after his confession, and Viktor and Yakov were equally pissed. He said practice was over for the day, but it didn't really feel like it. It felt like something was unfinished, a stone unturned. And you knew what it was, definitely, but that didn't mean you had to do anything about it.  
  
After grabbing something for you two to eat, you laid sprawled out on your couch, head in Viktor's lap, closing your eyes as his fingers ran through your hair and words flew out of your mouth.  
  
"Yeah, it was after you left- we went through the routine basically perfectly, without a hitch, and he just...kissed me. I didn't really get to think about it because he ran off afterwards, and I mean I get it, but I just want to talk about it for once. For fucking once I want to have a serious conversation with him about something involving you know, our friendship? I'm tired of tiptoeing around him, not wanting to upset him."  
  
Viktor nodded along, humming sometimes, as you started explaining more and more. You told him you didn't want to be dating somebody- not right now, not at this age, and not with Yuri whenever he doesn't know how to fucking deal with emotions. You were frustrated, plain and simple, and you didn't know what to do anymore.  
  
"Tell him you need to talk." He said, voice soft. "Force him to talk to you. I know Yura, and although he does hate to be forced into things that make him uncomfortable, he won't talk or do anything if he isn't forced into it if he didn't want to do it in the first place."  
  
You nodded, thinking it over. You didn't want to do it this week, maybe over the weekend. There wasn't any early morning practice, thank God, but you still didn't know if it was a good decision.  
  
Viktor spent the night again, and he took you to practice the next day. Anichka texted you and told you that she'd be home for dinner tonight, and that she had a surprise for you. Grinning, you texted her super quick before stuffing your phone in your bag and heading back out to the break room.  
  
Viktor and Mila were waiting for you at the table you all usually sat at and you slipped in beside Viktor, leaning on his shoulder.  
  
"I'm so tired." You grumble, closing your eyes. The two of you had stayed up far too late, watching bad movies and making disaster cookies after you decided you wanted something sweet to eat.  
  
"Told you we shouldn't have stayed up," Viktor grins at Mila as you swat his arm, eyes open again.  
  
When Yuri walked in, Viktor wolf whistled. You smacked his arm, again, and watched as the blonde walked over and sat next to Mila.  
  
"Hey, Yuri," You say, his eyes flitting over to yours.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Do you want to do something this weekend?" Out of the corner of your eye you can see Mila restraining from smiling, but you ignore her and focus on Yuri's reaction instead. It's guarded. He looks at you weird for a moment before replying.  
  
"Did Viktor put you up to this?"  
  
Rolling your eyes you shake your head, lifting it up off of Viktor's shoulder.  
  
"No, this is my idea. I don't have any plans this weekend and I want to hang out with somebody for once."  
  
"What would we be doing?"  
  
"I don't fucking know, causing a ruckus, you can decide that." Yuri thinks for a moment, looking from you to Viktor before hesitantly speaking.  
  
"Okay, fine. But if either of these two show up and I'm leaving."  
  
You nod, and you excuse yourself to go warm up. Despite the fact that Yuri didn't trust you, it was a start.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Anichka was home that night, with takeaway. You two sat on the couch, digging into the greasy fast food and chatting amicably for what felt like the first time in years.  
  
"Okay, you said you had something important to tell me," Anichka's face drops, putting down her food and settling herself to look at you.  
  
"So, I'm not too sure if this will make you as happy as it makes me, but I got a call from your parents a while ago. They said that they wanted to visit you for a week or so, and we finally decided on a date."  
  
Unblinking, you looked at her. Your parents weren't supposed to visit until your first exhibition. You had decided it with them when you left, for multiple reasons, one of which being you hated having them around whenever you were working on a program or routine- and you knew that they'd want to go to a practice or two.  
  
"When are they coming then?" Sighing, you started eating your food again, shaking your head and trying to stay calm. You knew it wasn't her fault- it was your parent's decision to come visit you because they were worried. It made sense, and you knew that, but it still pissed you off.  
  
"They'll be in tomorrow night." Friday night. You nodded, finishing your food before heading back to your room.  
  
Once you'd closed the door, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you found your mom's number. Clicking it quickly, you started pacing up and down the room as it rang.  
  
"Anichka told you?" Her voice was hard, not cold or angry per se, but firm.  
  
"You knew I'd be mad, you knew it Mom!" Fuming, you paced even faster. "You didn't even have the decency to tell me it left it for Anichka to do! Do you know how manipulative that is? I can't even say no."  
  
"Exactly, Honey. We wanted to visit and we didn't want you saying we couldn't. We are worried and as your parents we're allowed to come and see you."  
  
"Not whenever you're gonna make me too nervous to skate properly! God, can you ever think that maybe I'm doing better than you think? Have you ever thought I'm stronger than you thought?"  
  
"Honey, don't raise your voice with me!"  
  
"I'll do whatever the hell I want! I was doing perfectly fine, and now you've gone and messed it all up!" Furiously, you hung up on her, tears already forming. You weren't mad because she was worried, you were mad because she couldn't even tell you so you could be prepared for it all. You had no time to get in extra practice or even perfect your routines. And you couldn't believe that it had come to this- your parents flying all the way to Russia just because they thought you couldn't take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so unmotivated which SUCKS and ive literally thrown out my entire outline at this point so :') anyways ill finish this within the next month or two, sorry yall. i only finished this part bc savannah brown did another write with me live stream so. anyways merry christmas, or whatever you celebrate, and hope ur new year is great.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait! life's by crazy and ive had a hard time writing, but here it is!!!!

Your relationship with your parents was unique. You loved them, of course, but you would rather kill yourself than have to go back home. It wasn't that they were abusive, per sé, just- unempathetic. Hypocritical, too, and moving to Russia just seemed like the answer to all your problems. That included not having to see your parents for four months.

Viktor and Mila didn't understand, really, but were willing to help you get the extra practice in along with being as blunt as possible while critiquing your programs. 

And although you did appreciate the bluntness, it stung. There was so much you had to clean up, so much to perfect and solidify and it frustrated you. Yes, your routine would probably be fine if you had to perform right now, but- you were a perfectionist. When you competed, you weren't looking for fine, you were looking for the best you could do it.

“Hey, Honey, your turns are too sharp. They're not as graceful as they usually are.”

Running Glory was basically a warm-up for you; it was the easier of your routines at this point, but that was the issue. You didn't enjoy skating it as much as you used to and you didn't know if you could get the same emotion you used to have while performing to it.  
Viktor made you run Spanish Sahara a few times before he called it, and in all honesty you were on the verge of just quitting. 

“You did fine, don't stress it so much.” You nodded, taking a drink of your water. Viktor was dropping you off, and then Anichka and you were going to head to the airport to pick up your parents. Anichka felt horrible about all of it, and you could tell she wasn't entirely pleased with how they executed their plan, but she wasn't allowed a say so she kept quiet. It wasn't her business.

The car ride was silent, and before you left the car Viktor assured you he would do his best to keep your parents distracted when you were skating. You smiled at him and thanked him before heading up the stairs towards the apartment. To your surprise, Yuri was waiting in front of the door. For you.

“What are you doing here?” Sighing, you went towards him and waited.

“You obviously needed a friend. I'll go with you to the airport.”

“My parents will ask questions.”

“But you don't have to answer them. Tell them they came to see your skating, not learn all about your new friends.”

Smirking slightly, you opened the door and gestured for him to come inside. He wasn't wrong; no matter how worried they may seem, they only cared about your skating. They only cared about your personal life if it affected your skating.

“Yuri! I'm so glad to see you, are you coming with us to get her parents?” Anichka was smiling wide, genuinely. It excited her to see that you were making and keeping friends.

He nodded, and you went to go change while he waited with Anichka. They chatted a bit, and you couldn't hear Yuri being rude to her. You hoped that he wouldn't say much to your parents, if anything.

“Okay, I'm ready.” Together, you all took a cab to the same airport you arrived to Russia just a couple months ago. It felt refreshing, almost, to retrace your steps. 

When the cab pulled to a stop, Yuri took your hand and squeezed it before you opened the door and stepped out.

It took a few minutes to get to your parent's gate, but they were waiting for you with a look of boredom on their faces. They weren't impressed with you whatsoever, and when they saw Yuri their faces fell even more.

“Why is Yuri with you, Honey?” Your mom's face was angry, but you couldn't care less. She may have been your best friend but when push came to shove, she didn't care about your friends or what you did. She cared about you winning.

“You don't need to know. You came to see me skate, so you will. Let's go.”

Yuri rubbed your shoulder consolingly, and you let him. You wished Mila and Viktor were here- you wanted all your friends here right now. Up until now you had accepted that all of your parent’s attempts to love you and care for you were superficial, basic attempts at parenting. Something you had learned a while ago was that just because your family provided you with basic needs doesn't mean you had to love them if they treated you like shit otherwise.

“I hope you're not in a bad mood the entire time we're here. We had to make a lot of sacrifices to be here for you, so watch it.”

Your mom's voice was whispered as you walked back to the exit, and you willed yourself to ignore her. She always irked you just so, just to get you screaming and yelling at you so she could have a reason to punish you. 

While you waited for the cab, your phone buzzed and you saw a text from Viktor. He wanted you to come in early in the morning so he could skate with you for a while. You showed Yuri before turning your phone off, and you went to Anichka.

“You okay?” She whispered, hugging you softly. You nodded and smiled at her.

“Yeah, it's alright. Can we talk before you go to bed tonight?” She agreed right as the cab drove up.

You ate dinner with your parents, Anichka and Yuri that night. It was awkward, to say the least. They kept asking you different questions about your routines and kept trying to dig into why you were friends with Yuri Plisetsky, the boy you'd held a grudge against for years. But you didn't want to explain. It wasn't their business.

Eventually, Viktor came and picked Yuri up and you said goodnight to your parents before asking Anichka to make sure you could leave early in the morning. You explained what was going on and she understood and promised to make sure they were out of the house or at least asleep so they wouldn't ask to go with you. Grateful for her, you went to bed, but not before wondering if all of this was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to everyone who's left comments pushing me to continue writing this !!!! it means a hell of a lot to mean and it DOES push me to continue write this !!! thank you for understanding ive been losing motivation for this story but i dont want to end this world just yet. i hope to have a sequel for this, but i want it finished before i start posting it just so you guys dont have to wait. i love u and i hope u enjoyed !!!


	14. update (not a chapter sorry)

so. hi. i dont know if anybodys still reading this as the fandom is basically dead and my account has been dead too lmao OOPS but !!! im rewriting this fic before i publish the final parts just because i hate the way i wrote this originally and i think my writing style has changed a bit too much to continue as it stands rn. please stay tuned- im really looking forward to what yall have to say !!! love u <3


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